Random Oneshots
by Kishiko Masago
Summary: Yea. Multi-pairings. Up now: Savin' Me. Pairings include GerIta and PruHun It has boy love in it, so don't read it if you don't like it. :P
1. Boats and Birds

The moonlight shone through a break in white curtains that veiled Victorian styled windows. The light of the moon kissed everything it touched with a silvery glow. The room that it filtered in, at first glance, seemed almost empty. The walls of the room were painted a blue color that was normal to the English Victorian era. A bookcase that sat on the far left wall was also decorated in a Victorian style. It was made of maple wood and had a mahogany stain. The bed was made of iron that was painted white and, like everything else, had a Victorian design. The bedding, however, was blue, white and red. If it had been daytime, one would have noticed that the bedding had the Union Jack, the flag of the United Kingdom, on it.

Perched on the bed was a man with blonde hair and green eyes. With his, pale right hand, he traced the flag on his bedspread. In his left hand, he held a blue cell phone. The smile on his face was placid and he had a slightly red tinge to his face, as if he was embarrassed. He turned his pale face to the window, looking out the window. The moon was starting to set and he was able to see the sun peeking over the gray clouds that usually adorned the London sky.

Miles away, on the other side of the Atlantic, a man with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes was settling into bed. It was already night and the stars were starting to appear. The man looked around his room, taking in the details. It was very rare that he stayed in his house right outside of Philadelphia. His room was rather messy, with t-shirts, jeans, sneakers and football jerseys all over the floor. He had a gray Sony T.V. across from his bed on a wooden stand he built himself. Next to the T.V. stand was an organizer for his electronic devices that was white and had sports themed drawers. He had a white dresser against the wall, that held all of his clothes. The bed he sat on had a fence-like headboard and footboard. The boy was lounging lazily, talking to his English lover, with whom he hadn't spoken in a long while.

"Well, I should go to bed, goodnight~" Alfred said, smiling and yawning; he was rather tired and it was past his bedtime.

"But wait…" Arthur protested softly, wincing; he felt like he hadn't talked to Alfred long enough. They were on different sides of the Atlantic and Arthur felt lonely without hearing his dorky American lover's voice after some time.

Alfred frowned, keeping silent. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but he would wait. Hell, he would do anything for his Artie.

"Please don't go…" Arthur whispered softly, a tear rolling down his cheek. He suddenly felt more lonely than ever. The feeling crushed his very heart and soul.

"Is something wrong?" Alfred asked softly, holding the phone closer to his cheek, as if he was talking to Arthur directly. Sometimes, he wondered how Arthur could make it over there in rainy England all by himself, when Alfred himself couldn't go a day without thinking about his little British lover.

"I don't… wanna sleep. Please don't make me…" Arthur begged softly, tears spilling over. His thin chest was racked by sobs and at some times, he had to gasp for air, trying to fill his oxygen deprived lungs.

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed over his blue eyes. Was Arthur crying? He sat straight up, speaking softly and soothingly, "Arthur, love, please don't cry. It's okay. I'm still here."

Arthur kept shaking and crying, tears tainting his normally green eyes, "But… if you hang up… I'll be alone again… I don't want to be alone…"

Alfred sighed softly, shifiting again on his bed, "Art-"

Arthur sighed, swiping away the tears, "Don't call me that, git."

Alfred smiled weakly; at least Arthur still had the energy and courage to be himself. The dirty blonde sighed, flopping back on the pillows, "How about I sing you to sleep?"

Arthur made a face that Alfred would have laughed at, had he been in the room at the moment. "What am I, a bloody child?" the Briton asked, rolling his eyes and pouting slightly.

The American just laughed, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear, "Come on, please? You know you love it when I sing."

Arthur sighed, giving up, "Fine."

Alfred started to sing softly and Arthur closed his eyes, just listening. As Arthur listened, he recognized the words. The song was one that he used to sing to Alfred to get him to sleep when he was younger. The melody was comforting and familiar and Arthur was asleep in no time. Even after Arthur fell asleep and Alfred had long hung up, Alfred continued to sing the song, tucking himself into bed.

"If you be my boat, I'll be your sea. A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity ebbing and flowing and pushed by a breeze. I live to make you free. I live to make you free. But you can set sail to the west if you want to and past the horizon till I can't even see you, far from here where the beaches are wide, just leave me your wake to remember you by…." Alfred sang softly, pulling the covers over his head.

He would make it a point to see Arthur in the near future.


	2. Savin' Me

"I hate you! I hate you all! How could you?" she asked, falling to her knees and sobbing, shaking her head from side to side.

She buried her face in her hands. How could this have happened? Everything had been fine! She felt a shadow over her and looked up. A once strong and emotionless face was now overcome with sorrow and bitter hatred of self. The blonde man before her had been blamed for everything that had happened and had suffered loneliness through the whole awful thing. There were still fresh, bleeding marks on his face from the more and more of his people that were killed either in battle or in death camps. She watched as bitter tears fell down his face, probably stinging the wounds on his face. He too fell to his knees in front of her. It was all a blur, but in the end, she had managed to catch the tall blonde around the torso so he wouldn't hit the ground. The others standing watched, most of them stone faced. She opened her mouth again, but her voice came out in a whisper.

"See what you've done to him? You should be ashamed. He's still a child…" she said, holding the tall blonde close, resting his head on her chest.

"He's also a danger to the world."

"He's lucky we let him live."

"This is the second time he's dragged the world into war."

"And what does Prussia have to do with it?" she yelled in response, still clutching the fallen, sobbing blonde.

"That outrage _taught_ him this way of life, Elizavetha (1)," another blonde with blue eyes hissed.

"How dare you say that, Francis? Gilbert was your _friend. _You always used to call him "_mon ami"_! Or does that mean something that is as horrible as what you said?" she asked, her green eyes overflowing with tears.

Francis's face hardened, "That was before he abused me…(2)"

"Stupid… wine bastard…" muttered the blonde in the brunette woman's arms.

Francis smirked, "What's wrong, Ludwig? Can't speak for yourself? Not so tough without your big _bruder _now, are you?"

A blonde with green eyes shoved Francis lightly, "Enough, Francis. He's tortured enough…"

Francis sighed, "But Arthur…"

"Shut up everyone. No one speaks unless spoken to, understand?" asked a man with golden blonde hair and blue eyes.

Everyone nodded in agreement. Ludwig gently pushed the brunette woman with green eyes away and turned his icy-sapphire eyes to the man who had just spoken.

"My brother… doesn't deserve this. I do… America…" he croaked softly.

The blonde who was standing shook his head, "It's not your fault, Germany."

"G-Germany…?" a small, familiar voice said, sounding very afraid and nervous.

The German looked up to see a small, Italian man in a bloody blue military outfit standing, chained to a wall. Ludwig sighed in relief, barely managing to crawl over to the Italian. Once they were close, the Italian launched himself onto Ludwig and attached himself, as if he would never let go.

"Feliciano, are you okay?" Ludwig asked, holding Feliciano as close as he could.

Feliciano ignored Ludwig's question, opting instead to take off Ludwig's half unbuttoned shirt. The lithe man gasped, as tears built in his eyes. The poor German was covered in scars and marks that were still spilling blood. The Italian covered his mouth, as tears dripped down his face and unknowingly onto the scars. Ludwig hissed in pain as the salty water hit his skin, which was still open, raw and so red; it could be a competitor with a tomato. Feliciano pulled his head away quickly, nuzzling his head in Ludwig's neck, where there were less fresh wounds. They just stayed like that for a while, Ludwig holding Feliciano close while the latter sat in the former's lap, cradling his small head in between the larger man's neck and shoulder as he sobbed. When Feliciano calmed down, he looked at Ludwig's back again. The gashes were large, ugly and some were probably infected, judging but the pus coming out of a smaller wound that looked about three months old that seemed to have never healed.

"T-They hurt Ludwig…" Feliciano said softly.

"_Nein_. Don't blame them… I did it to myself…" Ludwig said despondently, trying to curl himself away from his Italian ally.

"No! You didn't! Don't blame yourself!" the brunette choked, starting to sob again.

The blonde lifted his hand to dry Feliciano's tears. Feliciano took a surprisingly firm hold of Ludwig's wrist, looking at it. It was, like his back, a red color, with thin slice marks, making diamonds and X patterns. He tried to control his tears as he kissed the German's wrist up and down. Had Ludwig done this to himself? Feliciano hoped to God that it was from the Great Genocide, or that the Allies had done it to inflict pain. Feliciano looked up, the blood from Ludwig's wrists staining his lips a brilliant red. The Italian's eyes begged for an answer, and sure enough, the German gave it to him

"I-I did this. I deserve to die. I killed so many people… Poland's, Russia's, China's , England's, France's, America's, Japan's, Yours, even my own… I killed my own people, Fel… I hate myself…" he said, choking back a sob.

Feliciano held on tighter, if that was possible, sobbing his eyes out, "NO! NO YOU DON'T. I need you! I need you with me! Please don't leave! I won't let you!"

Ludwig was taken aback. No one, not even his bruder, had ever said anything that kind. He reached over and broke the bondage that held Feliciano to the wall. He yanked the cuffs off the Italian's hands, setting him free. Feliciano grabbed a nearby hunk of rock and reciprocated, freeing the German of his restraints. They stared at each other for a moment before Feliciano closed the distance between them with a desperate and needy kiss(3). Ludwig stayed stiff a moment, before melting into the kiss like butter melting in an oven. Feliciano pulled back, covering his lips with his hand. Was this even real? He couldn't tell anymore. He pressed his ear to Ludwig's jugular vein, closing his eyes; he wanted to hear the blood pulse through the vein, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. The German was confused so he decided to just stroke the Italian's hair. Then, Feliciano buried his ear in Ludwig's chest, listening to the erratic breathing that matched his own. Ludwig was now _really_ confused; what was Feliciano doing?

"Ludwig…" Feliciano said, his voice small and soft.

"_Ja_?" Ludwig asked.

"_Ti amo_…. Please, don't hurt yourself anymore… I need you and so does Japan. But I need you more…" the Italian said blinking the tears away.

"_I-Ich liebe dich auch_. I promise, I won't hurt myself. I-I need you too, so don't leave, okay?" the German said softly, petting the Italian's hair as he laid a reassuring kiss on Feliciano's forehead.

A brunette woman with green eyes stood beside a hospital bed that was barely big enough to hold her, let alone the normally, strong, burly German laying in it. His silver hair was knotted and matted with blood. His blue German military uniform that was from WWI was pretty much torn to shreds and left his body covered in blood. His scarlet eyes that she loved so much were closed and his brow was creased in pain. The woman smoothed the hair back from his forehead, accidentally getting blood on her hands. She didn't care, though. She blinked slowly, trying to hold back tears. She wouldn't know what to do if she lost him. She had lost the two most important things to her in the past 31 years, her husband, Roderich and her own people. He almost winced at the thought of her ex-husband. They had been so happy, but at the same time, so miserable because the Hungarian woman refused to admit she was in love with the Prussian man and worried about his safety in the war. She sighed softly, stroking her lover's blood-stained silver hair.

"I miss you, you know… Your loud, obnoxious voice, your egotistical words, your warm lips, your gentle caress, your loving smile…" she said almost begrudgingly if she hadn't started to cry.

The salty tears from her face dripped down onto his, making him hiss in pain. The pain stung the wounds on his face and that certainly had woken him right up. He sat up slowly, holding his head. He blinked slowly, looking at the woman. He beckoned for her to come to him by making a motion with his index finger. The brunette sighed, sitting down on the side of the bed. She squeaked when she was picked up and put in the albino's lap. The Prussian wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest. The Hungarian laid her ear on his heart, listening to the familiar and comforting beat. Oh, how she loved moments like this.

"Liz… Why are you here…?" he asked softly, stroking Elizavetha's hair.

Elizavetha nuzzled her lover's neck, "Because Ludwig wanted to know that you were okay. And because I didn't want you to be lonely, Gil."

Gilbert sighed. This was really the end, wasn't it? His little brother was worried about him. Gilbert wanted to hate his brother for agreeing to dissolve him, but he just couldn't. He had grown attached to Ludwig and loved him with a strong brotherly love that would never be broken, even through dissolution and death. He looked up at Elizavetha. His love for her was as strong as his love was for his little _bruder_, maybe stronger. He leaned up and kissed her lips, holding her close and savoring the moments before he was going to be ripped away from everything he knew and given to Russia. Elizavetha kissed back fervently, trying to burn the memory and feeling of the kiss into her mind, lest she forget what love was like. After they pulled away from each other, they slowly smiled.

"_Ich liebe dich, _Elizavetha." Gilbert said softly.

"_Szeretem túl_, Gilbert." Elizavetha said even quieter, curling in his embrace to sleep.

Gilbert smiled a little, continuing to stroke her hair. He looked in the mirror at himself and smirked.

"_Ich bin das überwältigende Preußen. Leben Sie lang Preußen_!" he said.

He wasn't going to let death or dissolution get him down.

End

Author's notes:

According to my history teacher, Germany learned militarism through Prussia. Prussia had conducted three wars to form Germany, the Danish War, the Franco-Prussian War, and the Austro-Prussian War. All of these wars were short and due to this, when Germany entered WWI, their plan relied on a quick and easy defeat of the French, which, as we can see, did not happen.

Here, Francis is referring to the Franco-Prussian war, which the Prussians fought against the French to continue the unification of Germany. After the war, the Prussians made the French sign a humiliating treaty, forcing the French to give back Alsaces- Lorraine, which the French had taken during the 30 Years War.

Here, desperate and needy don't have a sexual connotation. Desperate here means willing to do anything to keep someone alive and needy means that someone needs the other person by their side to even function normally. (I know this may not make sense, but I thought I'd put it in there anyway.)

Translations:

_Mon ami_: My friend (French)

_Bruder_: Brother (German)

_Nein_: No (German)

_Ja_?: Yes? (German)

_Ti amo_: I love you (Italian)

_Ich liebe dich, auch_: I love you too (German)

_Ich liebe dich: _I love you (German)

_Szeretem túl_: I love you too (Hungarian)

_Ich bin das überwältigende Preußen. Leben Sie lang Preuße!_: I am the awesome Prussia. Long live Prussia!

If any of these are wrong, I'm sorry. I used a translator… And now I really wanna go learn either Italian or German. Most likely Italian, but still… XD

Thanks for reading~


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